What about the night we cried?
by cazalu
Summary: SLASH - Lennon/McCartney: “You remember that time in Paris?” John smiled, but only to himself. “I don’t remember anything about Paris Paul, I was never sober”


**October 1962**

_Paris Wednesday 2:37pm._

Paul sat, his face in the Daily Mail. Occasionally he nodded or shook his head at something he read.

"Alright noddy?" John smiled entering the room.

Paul hummed in response.

"Why do you read that rubbish?"

Paul sniffed deeply and smelt the strong scent of alcohol .

"What have you been drinking?" Paul sighed.

Lennon slumped down onto the chair in front of him, "dunno, whatever them French drink here in Paris" he slurred.

"That green stuff again?"  
"Why didn't you come out?"  
"We already been out three nights in a row since we got here! It's still bloody day light as it is!"  
"It's my birthday!"  
"Yeah it was!"  
Lennon sat up and snatched the paper away from Paul's hands and Paul stood and tapped him around the head.

"You're so fucking irritating when your pissed you know that?"  
John smiled and watched Paul walk over to the window in the small Hotel room they resided in. Paul put his hand to his head in exasperation as John struggled to sit up.

He turned just as he fell onto the floor and laughed.  
Paul was irritated. Not only that but he was disappointed. John had slept with two other women already since being here in Paris. Not seeming to give a thought to his wife and kid.  
His excuse was, "it's my fucking birthday," and he said so again when he saw Paul's expression looking down at him.

Lennon sat up and tried to sober up a little. He lit himself a cigarette and sat for a few moments while he heard Paul run a bath.

"You comin' out for supper Paul?" he called. "Paul?"  
Paul undressed oblivious to Lennon calling him, and slowly got into the clear hot water sighed in relief as he did so.

He turned seeing he hadn't shut the door. For a second, he worried. But such thoughts left him when he heard Lennon snore.

He led back and relaxed, closing his eyes.

Paul awoke then, unknown how long he had fallen asleep, to see John, sat opposite him in the bath looking at him worriedly.

"John?" he said immediately sitting up.  
"Turn around," John said and tilted his head to the side, looking at Paul's lips and eyes.

Paul frowned, "What?" he said shaking his head in confusion.  
"Turn round man"  
"No I'm getting out," Paul started to move but ever quicker john grabbed his shoulders and told him again to turn.

Paul shouted at him and turned so quickly water sloshed out of the bath onto the floor below.

Paul then looked in front of him and noticed a tiled mirrored wall. Behind him he saw John smiling, and then flinched slightly as he moved much much closer, his legs wrapping around him, so he became fully aware they were as close as they could be. John slipped his wet arms around Paul and rested his chin on his shoulder.

"I love you" he said quietly.

Paul stared back at Johns face in the reflection trying to see the joke behind the seriousness.

"John, you're still drunk," he eventually said.  
"A little," John shrugged.  
Paul lowered his eyes to see his wrinkled fingertips.

"I'm cold" he said quietly.

And then John kissed his neck and Paul bolted so fast out of the bath John hardly had a moment to breath.

"Jesus McCartney!" he shouted as Paul grabbed a towel and left the bathroom slamming the door hard.

John slumped back into the bath, holding his breath and immersing himself underwater.

In the bedroom Paul sat on the bed, still wrapped in his towel, his hair wet against his face, dripping water from separate strands, and he shivered so hard it hurt, unsure if her were cold or…

The bathroom door opened then, and he looked up to see John stood in his robe, drying his hair.

"What's the matter?" he said not looking at Paul.

Paul watched him silently as he threw the towel onto the floor and lit another cigarette.

"I don't know, "Paul eventually said.

Lennon leaned his head back and laughed at the situation. He turned and walked over and sat next to Paul.

"What the matter love? Think I fancy you?"  
Paul looked at him, no, he didn't think that at all.  
"No, you just "  
"Wha'?"  
"Well you know you don't get in the bath with yer mate at this age"  
"Sod off we always did when we were kids"  
Paul sighed. "Yeah but you never said you loved me then!"  
He looked at John's huge grin and started laughing. "You're a really prick you know that?"  
"Yeah yeah I know"

John sighed leaning back onto the bed saying how hungry he was. Paul seemed to have serious problem.  
John watched him. "Sod off."  
"You so bloody miserable"  
"Yeah and you're so fucking dr…" but before Paul could finish he turned hearing a familiar hissing sound and saw John already downing a bottle of beer.  
"John!!" Paul shouted grabbing it, and angrily, John yanked it back hard, causing Paul to fall forwards, and he stumbled his hand falling to rest on John's chest to prevent his stumble.  
The beer landed quite heavily on the lovely carpet spilling its liquid onto it.

"Oh?" John smiled.  
Paul frowned distracted to Johns face by his pronounced oh.

He realized the closeness between them, and then realized his problem was now fully exposed to John and his leg, and John looked most pleased.

"Shit," Paul whispered and turned to move but Lennon stopped him.

"John gerroff! Its cos I haven't in ages you know?!"  
"Don't give me that crap" John said brokenly as Paul struggled.  
"Stop it!"  
"Stop being a bloody prick about it!"  
"Im not a fucking queer Lennon!"  
John angrily grabbed him by his wet hair and Paul yelled loudly grabbing Johns wrist.

John swore under his breath and forcibly pulled Paul upwards onto the bed and Paul fel back onto it, rubbing his head wincing as John had let go.

He opened his eyes his mouth open ready to shout at him, but Lennon once again to quick for him, covered his soft mouth with his own.

Thursday 10.32am 

Paul awoke, his head slightly sore and turned immediately to see john led next to him fast asleep.

He looked down seeing he was still in his underwear, and put his hand to his hear frowning hard trying to remember what exactly had happened after that kiss.

He remembered having a fight with him, and then having a drink and then having a row, and then…

Paul sat up suddenly and got out of the bed, he on the other hand wore nothing.  
He grabbed his discarded towel and wrapped it around his waist, his once wet hair now dry in a messy mop on his head, dark a silken. He reached for a ciggie and lit it quickly, taking a long slow drag.  
He blocked that memory from his mind, it couldn't have happened, John wouldn't have done that.

Paul walked over to the large window of the room and sat on the sill, looking down at the morning street market.  
Behind him, John stirred while Paul opened the window to let the smoke out, and immediately the sound of bustling people hit his ears.

John opened his eyes to see Paul silhouetted against the sun, the smoke around him like a heavy mist.

"Shit" he whispered, a sharp pain shooting right though his head. "Ouch!"  
Paul turned hearing John.

"Ow fuckinhell!" John winced pulling the covers over his head.

Paul shook his head.

"Heavy night John?"  
Lennon opened his eyes and peered at Paul beneath the sheets.  
"Oh I don't know, " he smiled beneath, and Paul looked away. "I don't remember"  
Paul lowered his eyes looking at his shrinking ciggie. At that moment he hated him for saying that.

John threw the sheets off of him sighing in pain and walked into the bathroom to get himself a cup of water. Paul listened as he heard the tap, and the water run into the glass. John turned the tap off, and walked back into the room, and Paul listened as john drank down the water quickly, making a satisfied 'ahhh' afterwards.

"You alright Paul?"

Paul sighed and turned to him, and John felt relieved to see that face again, that completely turned him soft. He couldn't understand it, but it felt good to look at him, so he didn't question himself.

"I don't know," Paul finally replied "what happened John?"  
He shrugged unable to admit what had happened.

"Paul it doesn't matter, I cant remember and nor can you, listen, were off home on Sunday lets enjoy the rest of it yeah? I spent me birthday money on this y'know"  
Paul nodded finished his ciggie, "all right, breakfast then?"  
"Yeah so long as it's not those poncy crossiwant thingies" John smiled.

He then proceeded to watch as Paul walked over to the wardrobe and opened it, and then turned to John and asked what he should wear.  
John watched almost mesmerized as Paul as usual, bit his bottom lip in thought, and John was his.

"Paul," John said quietly.  
"Yeah?"  
"Paul" he breathed

And again Paul responded, but his half smile faded and he looked at John with huge brown eyes, and a slightly open mouth, and John almost fainted with desire at such a look.

"Come here, "

"What for? I'm getting ch-chagned"  
John almost laughed a the slight tremble in Paul's voice, but instead he walked over to him, and slipped his hand around Paul's neck, long talented fingers loosing into his hair, "shit Paul, " John whispered, looking down at him, and Paul looked back, wide eyes and breathing deep. "You turn me on so bad"  
And he kissed him with that.  
"John" Paul said protesting thought the small testing kisses he placed on his lips, "John stop"

"What for?" John whispered back and continued.

John grabbed him by the neck and pushed him hard against the cupboard door which slammed shut with the impact, and Paul hardly noticed the slight pain when those lips locked onto his again.


End file.
